


Second Verse, Same but in Reverse

by gentlearmor



Series: AU FFXV [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, No Beta, Tags to be added as necessary, everything's on a sliding scale, heed chapter notes up top, i never have a beta, rating on a sliding scale, some awful implications, warnings on a sliding scale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlearmor/pseuds/gentlearmor
Summary: A look at if everything was the same as in canon, but with a small flippity flop:Princess Lunafreya of Lucis, Chosen KingPrince/Lord Noctis of Tenebrae, OracleAnd... with their personalities at least starting in the same position in canon, but forming and changing as they've grown in these different shoes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to a friend who may never actually see this, but when we toyed around with this behind closed doors, she did such a good job with it.
> 
> I don't even think she has an account on here.
> 
> I swear, she's my closest friend LMAO

“Our terms are simple!” the grandstanding chancellor announced, much to the ire of those seated around the throne as counsel to the Lucian Monarch.  “Not only do we ask that all territories under your rule be transferred to the Empire of Niflheim… but we also wish for Princess Lunafreya and Prince Noctis to be wed.”

The arrival of the red headed man was bothersome on its own, but those terms left the council in a frantic mess once he had left.

“Ridiculous terms!”

“Tenebrae is part of Niflheim now!  I realize the Fleuret family has long stood as allies to the Lucii, but that means nothing when that _name_ means nothing!”

“Cor,” their monarch beckoned, looking to the right.

Cor Leonis turned as he stepped more to the front of the throne, and bowed.  “Yes, your Majesty?”

“Make the call, please.  We will agree to their terms, although I will attempt to negotiate on the matters of territories on behalf of us all, once the Emperor arrives.”

*****

For everything that Ignis Scientia was tasked to do as steward and confidant of the second-to-next-in-line to the Lucian throne, at least maintaining the apartment the heir lived in was an easy one.  As evidenced when he keyed into the apartment, and found Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret working on something to eat for herself.

“Well, this is a bit distressing,” Ignis advised as he closed the door and worked on taking off his shoes.  “I even went to the store to get some groceries, hoping to beat you.

She smirked a bit and rested her hands on the counter as she looked to him.  “Well, lucky for you, I wasn’t trying to cook a full meal.  I just remembered Prompto saying he’d like a few more greens next dinner.”

“Ah, I see.  Way to a man’s heart, hm?” Ignis said passively as he toted the brown bag in his arms over to the counter behind her.  He stumbled a little when Luna snorted and pushed at him.

“Stop,” she protested.  There was never any sort of indication that she had any feelings for her best friend, or vice versa.  He sure as hell loved using her as his wing girl to pick up ladies though.

“Either way—” Ignis started.  He was cut off by the sound of his phone going off, the brief series of beeps telling him it was Gladiolus Amicitia.  He was quick to answer the phone, using his free hand to pull out the various items from his bag.  “Hello, Gladio.  Are you going to be over for dinner at Luna’s place?”

“ _No, and neither are you two_ ,” Gladio responded.  By the sound of it, he was in a moving car.  “ _Cor’s on the way_.”

“Why?” was the baffled question, and Ignis turning to look at Luna in confusion.  She looked equally confused at his tone shift, turned to watch him.

“ _Queen Sylva’s called for her.  I don’t know exactly why, but I do know the Chancellor of Niflheim dropped in for a visit, and immediately after, the request was made that Cor come and get her.  I just got the order to round you up, as well._ ”

“I’ll have her ready.  If you’re headed this way, I will simply go with her and—”

“ _Already figured as much, Iggy.  Don’t worry, I’ll call so Cor knows._ ”

“Talk to you soon, then.”  Still baffled, Ignis released the call, and looked to Luna.  “Cor’s on his way.  The Queen has called for you.”

“What?  Did Gladio say why?”

“He doesn’t know.  I’ll be going with you.  Run along and get dressed, and I’ll put everything away,” he urged.

Luna nodded sharply, laying down the large knife she was working with so she could get to her bedroom.  She was an obedient girl to her mother, although still spirited.  Living life as a commoner was much more her style, and Ignis could respect that.  She was allowed her own place away from the Citadel at fifteen.  Working hard in school earned trust from her mother, and the fact that she wasn’t one to party as so many of her peers added to that trust.  Granted, she could be a bit sassy, and she was a bossy thing, but Ignis and Gladio always allowed it.  In the event that she had to ascend to the throne in place of her brother, she would need those sorts of skills to survive.  Not because she was a woman, but because she was a Fleuret in dangerous world, with an enemy that would care about her sex.

In the end, she was a well-rounded young woman.  It had been quite the journey to even see her at twenty-four years old, but Ignis was proud to have born witness to her growth.

It just worried him.  Never had Queen Sylva called for Lunafreya on such short notice.  She always made certain her daughter had plenty of time—two days, at least—to prepare for whatever she needed to come in for.  Since she wasn’t the heir apparent, she didn’t have to attend all the meetings Ravus had to, so if she was required, she needed time to prepare.

After some time, after Ignis had cleaned up everything and stored all the food, Luna finally emerged in a business-formal black dress, complete with a black blazer.  “Is this okay, Iggy?” she asked as she fixed her hair up, against her head.

“Not with black shoes,” he insisted.  She was wearing black heels, and that wouldn’t do.  Along with everything else Ignis had to learn, impeccable and trending fashion was among it all.  He quickly ghosted past her for her bedroom, to seek out a different color pair.  When he returned, he had a pair of deep crimson heels, and set them down for her.

“I wish I could have some Crownsguard boots,” she sighed while she changed over to those.

“With the red heels?”

“Yes.  They’re nicer.”

“Not in a dress and blazer,” Ignis insisted.  “Perhaps twenty years ago, but not today.”

“I’m a girl out of time, Ignis,” she sighed, making him smirk.

“Are you already, Lunafreya?” he asked.  She nodded and took a deep breath.  It was clear she had the same worries he did, about what could have Sylva calling her so suddenly.

She didn’t have much time to steel herself, either.  Within a minute of that interaction, there was a firm knock on the apartment door.  “Princess Lunafreya, it’s the marshal,” Cor called out.

“Well.  Here we go,” Luna said with another deep breath.  “Let’s get this over with.”

*****

Upon arrival at the Citadel, with Cor giving no indication to what the queen’s intentions were, Luna and Ignis were met by Gladio outside the dining hall.  He stood tall and proud, in his Citadel Crownsguard uniform, and for a moment, Luna believed that he was just on duty.  However, it became apparent that that wasn’t the case when they drew close.

“I have no idea what this is about, but it sounds like it’s pertaining to whatever the chancellor had to say when he visited earlier today,” he said quietly.

“We didn’t we hear anything on the news about Imperials being in Insomnia?” Luna asked.

“As I’ve understood it, he came alone,” Gladio replied.  Luna frowned at that, but had no time to ask for more details.  Gladio was charming and able to get a lot of people to gossip, even just a little, and even though they might not have been prone to gossiping in the first place.

However, the doors of the dining hall opened then, and Monica Elshett appeared, dressed in Crownsguard formals for some reason.  Luna had the sinking feeling it wasn’t for something after the meeting with her mother.

“Princess,” Monica greeted, putting her fist to her heart and bowing.  “Ignis, Gladiolus.  Please come in and take your seats as is traditional for formal dinners.”

“Are we underdressed?” Luna asked, frowning.  She leaned around Monica, and those she could see within the hall looked equally dressed up as Monica herself.

“Her Majesty isn’t worried about that,” Monica replied, her tone proper and yet motherly as always.  Luna always liked her simply because she balanced professionalism and kindness in a way most—even Luna herself—simply couldn’t.  “Come along, take your seats.”

She stepped aside and gestured.  Luna nodded and started in, rubbing a shoulder.  Gladio took to the side, first bowing to the patiently waiting Sylva, before taking his seat next to Ravus Nox Fleuret and his father, Clarus.  Luna’s seat was opposite Ravus, next to Sylva’s seat at the head of the table, with Ignis next to her.  They both made certain to bow to Sylva before taking their seats.  Around the table, various members of the court were seated, and the room was surrounded by Crownsguard.  Her brother wore a solemn face, though her mother was unreadable as always.

“How are you, daughter?” Sylva Via Fleuret asked after taking a delicate drink of her wine.  One hand rested on the top of her cane.  Rumor had it that it was looking more and more as though she would need to forgo the cane soon, in favor of a wheelchair.

“I’m well.  How are you, mother?” Luna asked in kind.  She took to folding her hands in her lap, and crossing her legs at her ankles, as all her etiquette lessons taught her.

“I will be better suited to answer that soon,” she admitted.  “The Chancellor of Niflheim graced our hallowed halls with his presence earlier today.”

Luna nodded.  “I’ve heard.”  She said no more, to hear her mother out.

“Already in the works has been a Ceasefire Agreement, which will be announced officially tomorrow to the press,” Sylva explained, her voice always so authoritative and yet patient.  Comforting in its power and its empathy.  “But they added some new stipulations.  Two, to be precise.  The first is that I must sign over any territory that isn’t Insomnia to the Empire.”

“What?” Luna breathed.  “Mother, say you didn’t—”

“She had to, Lunafreya,” Ravus pressed from across the table.  Luna looked at him with wide eyes.  “If we have any hope of ending this blasted war and rebuilding our forces to defend ourselves in the future should they decide to break the agreement, then we have to do this.”

Luna ended up locking her jaw at that and just looked back to their mother.  If she didn’t do that, she would go off on her brother, when it wasn’t really his fault at all to begin with.

“The other stipulation is that you are to go to Altissia,” Sylva said.  “There, you will meet with Prince Noctis and you will be wed to him.”

There, Luna felt herself met with a conflict.  She didn’t want to kowtow to anything the Empire wanted, but… being married to Noctis was something she’d wanted for a long time.  Well, as long a time as could be for a young woman four years his senior.  What was a best friend for years since she met him, once upon a time, turned into more through their years of communication through his Messengers.  That, and seeing him on television when he was eighteen.  He hadn’t seen her in twelve, long, trying years, and she never had the nerve to ask him about his feelings those days, but she could only hope he felt the same as she did.

Even as the fire that made him such an entertaining little boy seemed to fade in his writings, she honestly found him compelling and wonderful.

“When?” she finally managed to ask.  One would have been safe to assume the struggle was because she didn’t want to do that at all.  She had no desire for anyone to know about their written talks, after all.

“The wedding is scheduled in a few months,” Sylva said.  “Once he’s turned twenty.  Until then, you and Ignis will train nearly daily with Cor.”

“Along with Gladiolus,” Ravus added.

“What?” Luna asked, surprised.  When she looked to Ignis, he was about as surprised as she was.  Gladio was Ravus’s Shield.  He was supposed to stay with him at all times, so why…?

“Because the world is vast and dangerous, and you’ve not explored it yet,” her brother explained.  “I’ve already discussed it with mother, and Gladiolus as well.”

“I’ve added my blessing to this plan,” Clarus added from the other side of Gladio.  “While not traditional to a Shield’s duty, we would all feel vastly better in knowing you have both Ignis and Gladiolus at your side.”

“Well, if we’re just breaking tradition like that, I’d like Prompto to go, as well,” she advised, looking to Sylva.  “Please.”

Sylva tilted her head slightly at her daughter.  She was somewhere between contemplative and amused.  “He’ll have to train, in order to be able to take care of himself out there,” she advised.  “With the three of you, under Cor.”

“I know Prompto will step up to the task,” Luna said confidently.  “He’ll be uneasy and he’ll lack confidence, at first.  But he won’t let any of us down.”  Prompto was a goof, but earnest.   “He’d love the opportunity for his photography as well.”

“Will he promise to take pictures of you along the way, so we may view them when you return?” Sylva asked, earning a quick nod from Luna.  “Then yes.  That’s fine.  We’ll have him officially notified and brought to the Citadel in the morning.”

The request and promise caused Sylva to smile, a sort of sorrow twinging at her face that Luna, Ignis and Gladio didn’t notice at that moment in time.  Hindsight was a powerful punisher, however, and in less than half a year’s time, Lunafreya wouldn’t be the only one looking back on that smile with a hollow, heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist: apparently my brain decided not ONLY Luna and Noct are flipflopped.
> 
> Anyway, I’ve always imagined Luna’s life under the Empire was a dark one. For that reason, Ravus worked closely with the Empire, as a second reason aside from his fury with Regis. But what about an Oracle with no big brother there to protect him/her?
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Some awful implications, but never anything outright stated, regarding Empire abuses of teenagers in this place.

“Lord Noctis!  Lord Noctis, come quick!”

Noctis Lucis Caelum looked up from his desk, frowning at the maid who had burst into his office.  Her clothes were splattered with blood, her eyes wide with shock and fright.  That alone had him sweeping up to his feet and pulling his coat from the back of his chair.  He pulled it on as he rushed for her, the silken white falling into place immediately, allowing him to button it without really paying attention.

“What is it?  What’s going on?”

“A girl was found coming in on chocobo from the direction of the officers’ village!  She’s in a bad way,” the elderly maid stammered, looking at her trembling hands.  “In the foyer, my lord.”

Noctis clacked his teeth, and took off at a dead run.  It wasn’t uncommon for the teenagers around Tenebrae to find themselves in the imperial officers’ village residing nearby the town surrounding his home.  Whether by force or by false promise, it never ended well.  He was just grateful when they returned alive.

Down in the foyer of his bright and yet lonely mansion home, which served more for show than for him, several attendants of his were around the teenager as she rested on a blanket laid out hastily to hold her.  She was begging for them not to move her more, which was reinforced when he arrived.

“Please take distance,” he requested of the men and women fretting over the girl.  He dropped to his knees beside the girl.  “What’s your name?” he asked her, speaking calmly despite his rush.

“L-Lena,” she stammered.

She watched as Noctis’s hands lit in a soft golden light.  He rested one hand on her forehead, and the other on her stomach, pushing the light gently through her body and creating a current between both hands.  As though a powerful relaxant had hit her in that moment, her body relaxed and her eyes rolled back and closed.

“Lena, you’re going to be staying here for a day or so, in order for me to heal you,” he explained as he worked.  “I know you might wonder why I won’t heal you entirely in this moment, but that’s because it’s quite the shock to your body to do that.  So, we’ll heal the most grievous within you, and do treatments every three to four hours until you’re fully healed.  Do you have family?”

“A—A father…” she panted dazedly.

“What’s your father’s name, Lena?”

“Gavin… Gavin von Tres…”

Noctis frowned at that, and glanced at his attendants.  They were concerned as well.  At one time, the von Tres family served as personal guards to the Lucis Caelum family.  When the Empire annexed Tenebrae, the royal guard were all murdered or thrown out to live in poverty, replaced with imperial soldiers.

Before Noctis could say more, a trickle of warmth rolled over his shoulders and neck from behind.  It heralded the arrival of the High Messenger, and his friend since he was very young.  He looked to the young-looking man, fit in a fine tuxedo of white and black accents, as if made to compliment the wardrobe of Noctis himself, his hair of blue-black locks finely styled and his bangs curtaining red-brown eyes as he watched Noctis silently.

“Gentius, please, go find Gavin von Tres and tell him Lena is here.”

“As the Oracle wishes.”

Gentius bowed and stepped back, his form fading as if he’d stepped behind a curtain.  Noctis trusted him that, if Gavin von Tres had slipped into a dangerous life, Gentius would choose not to speak to him at all.

Returning his attention to Lena, he gently pressed on her lower abdomen.  “How does this feel, Lena?”

“Much better,” she murmured, confirming she was just one of many victims of varying, cruel games of the imperial officers.

“Good.”  He started to scale back his healing, and looked to one of the men around him.  “Elton, please get her to a room and call for Dr. Jovain.  I want painkillers and comfort for her body.”

“Yes, my lord,” the elderly man accepted, bowing before he scuttled away.

“Maria, I want you to stay with her, to ensure she gets what she needs and, after Dr. Jovain visits her and gives her recovery orders, you ensure they’re followed to the letter.”

“As you wish, my lord,” the woman, younger than Elton, but much older than Noctis, acknowledged with her own bow.

By the time he had eased off his healing light entirely, Lena had passed out right there.  He didn’t blame her.  Male, female, all the ones that were taken to the officers were put through a lot.  Truly, it was a miracle she came back alive.  They clearly wanted their weekly reminder of how little they thought of the people there to live to tell the tale.  Often, when others ended up dead, it was was entirely deliberate.

He raised to his feet, just in time for another member of his staff—a young man named Darius—rushed from the entrance where he’d been waiting.

“Lord Noctis,” he stammered, breath heaving as he bowed.  “The Chancellor of Niflheim is here to see you.”

“I see.  Where?”

“He’s returning to the Estate, and would like you there sometime today.”

“’Sometime today’,” Noctis echoed.  Ardyn Izunia was baffling.  There were things Noctis read in his words and in his body language that screamed that he couldn’t be trusted, even though he had yet to do anything to harm Noctis himself.  In fact…  well.  “If he calls or someone comes back on his behalf, assure them I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“My lord,” Darius obeyed, bowing to him.

*****

‘The Estate’ was what the Empire called the palace of Tenebrae.  After his father was slaughtered, he was relocated to his current home with the staff they allowed to survive the culling, and they took over the palace.  No one lived there constantly that had any real power.  They knew Noctis would keep his people calm and under control.

Or, rather, they ensured he would.

Instead, it was for when important persons visited, like the chancellor.

Who once again reinforced his baffling nature when Noctis arrived about an hour after notification, and had lunch set up for the both of them at a small table.  “Come!  Have a seat,” Ardyn insisted, gesturing to the seat immediately next to his spot at the head of the table.

Noctis headed over and took a seat as directed, folding his hands in his lap.  “I didn’t realize this would include a meal.  I would have asked if we could postpone it.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Ardyn asked as he poured a glass of a burgandy wine for Noctis.

“One of my people has been brought to me,” Noctis explained, watching the glass fill.  “She was at the officers’ village and suffered grave injuries, so she’s under my care.”

“The way you say that implies it happens often, dear Oracle.”

“I explained this to Loqi Tummelt the last time he was here,” Noctis insisted.  When it came to his people, he was far more forward than he was when it was regarding himself.  “The officers lay claim to the teenagers in my town.  Sometimes, they reach farther into other towns and villages.  We’re lucky if they return alive, though it’s barely so in most cases.”

“And what did Tummelt say when you told him?” Ardyn asked as he cut at his soft, lunch-worthy meat.

“That he would talk to the officers…” The way Noctis trailed off, it was obvious he had doubted that Loqi would even try.

“He’s a good commanding officer, but he has the common sense of a brick,” Ardyn sighed.  “A happy country is a productive country, after all.  Plus, if they’re genociding all the youth, that’s no good, either.”

“Genociding…”

“Something to say?”

“Three young ladies who survived in the last four months ended up pregnant.”  Noctis looked at Ardyn, his expression unreadable in an impressive feat, considering he was so angry at that fact.  A lot of years under the Empire taught him how to do that, however.  “That’s not going to make anyone happy.”

Ardyn clucked his tongue after swallowing a bite of food.  He smiled and leaned toward the young man by just a bit.  “You do have a point.  I think I know precisely what _will_ make your people happy, however.”  Noctis tilted his head slightly, but remained silent for the moment.  It was clear that Ardyn didn’t care enough either way.  He wouldn’t do anything about helping the young ones, and he wouldn’t do anything to report Noctis’s attempts to get them help.  “I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the Ceasefire Treaty being drawn up with Lucis?”

“I have.”  And it terrified him to realize that it was likely going to serve as the catalyst for the prophecy of Lunafreya.

“Well, we’ve decided on two stipulations Lucis has agreed to:  The first one doesn’t matter.  However, the other is that you will be traveling to Altissia soon, in order to marry Princess Lunafreya.”

Noctis felt as though his heart stopped.  Lunafreya was so precious to him, for many reasons, and marrying her was a wonderful plan in theory, but on the command of the Empire?  Why?  What was their plan for that?

…was it because Leviathan was there?

“I see.”

“Any objections?”

“Would it matter if I did have objections?”

“Good, good _boy_ ,” Ardyn praised in such a mocking tone.  “Why, I remember what a feisty little thing you were, back in the beginning.”  He reached over and took hold of Noctis’s lower jaw, hauntingly dark eyes looking right into his, stabbing through to the core of his psyche and, for that moment, his entire conviction dissipated in favor of just clutching his hands together tightly in his lap, and not resisting.  “Oracles aren’t meant to be feisty.  So this is much more suitable to your blood right.”

Noctis didn’t respond.  He simply held still and looked at Ardyn, no contempt, no pity, nothing in his eyes.

“We have approximately two to three months.  The Lucians will advise when the princess is ready to embark on her journey to Altissia,” Ardyn finally said, releasing Noctis so he could go back to his food.  “Perhaps I’ll stay here, just to ensure you’re ready as well.  What do you say?”

It took everything to not so much as clench his jaw, and Noctis looked to the food in front of him.  “Whatever suits you, chancellor.  So long as you find it in your heart to show mercy on the people here and stop the officers’ village’s torment.”

“You realize they’ll want something in exchange, to sate the thirst, don’t you?”

 _Of course they will_ , Noctis thought to himself.  _They still have a point they want to make_.

“I understand,” Noctis advised, realizing fully what Ardyn was implying.  “So long as they don’t break this deal.”

“I’ll make certain of it,” the chancellor said with a deep chuckle.  “Truly, you are a testament to the bloodline of the Oracle!”

Noctis simply drew silent then, and for the rest of his meal, until it was time to say goodbye.

*****

It was already dusk by the time Noctis was able to return home.  After a stop by with Lena to make up for the missed time in healing her, he returned to his chambers to be by himself, politely requesting to be left alone.  The only intended exceptions were his animals, though they were out in the gardens for play time, and Gentius.

Gentius was standing by the corner closest to Noctis’s bed, watching him carefully as he moved closer.  He didn’t speak, until Noctis was seated on the bed, looking at his hands.

“The father will come by morning,” the Messenger explained, his voice strong, yet gentle.  “He is far away, and did not wish for assistance.”

“Thank you, Gentius,” Noctis responded quietly.

Silence fell between them again, and Gentius eventually moved around the bed, so that he could sit next to Noctis.  “The Lord makes great sacrifices for his people,” he commented.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

“But, if the Lord was not as charitable as he is, he would be safe but his people would suffer.”

“Right.”  Noctis sighed a bit as he stared at his hands.  “Don’t accompany me this time, Gentius.  I’ll be alright.  I want you to make sure they hold up their side of this deal.”

“I will do as the Lord asks of me.”

“Thank you.”  Noctis finally looked at Gentius.  “Did you catch why the chancellor wanted to speak with me?”

“It is time for the prophecy of the Chosen King to begin,” replied the High Messenger.  “It is time for the Astrals to start awakening from their millennia-long slumber.”

“When this current deal is over, I need help getting to Lucis.”

“The Oracle must make this path on his own,” Gentius advised, closing his eyes.  “But I will ensure the Lord has his path cleared of that which I can help.  I suggest taking Umbra and Pryna with as well.”

“Depending on when I get to Insomnia, they might have to stay with you,” Noctis pointed out, although he was nodding in agreement.

“I will care for the Messengers,” was the compliant and patient response.

Noctis nodded his gratitude.  From there, he fell to silence.  Although the prophecy was sparse, even with all that he had access to, he knew in his heart that Insomnia would have to fall, first.

As time would move on, the events Noctis would actively observe would tell him two things:  The Empire wanted Lunafreya dead, and the Chancellor of Niflheim seemed more than a little invested in keeping her alive.

The implications made him sick.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for anything choppy in this, especially for the time it took. I’m actually very happy you guys are digging this, though!
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Prompto and his sad home life.
> 
> Tbh this is def what I see for him. Including how he got there, because it’s beyond me why Regis (or, in this case, Sylva) wouldn’t have known, OR wouldn’t have assured follow-ups to ensure he was treated well.
> 
> But beyond that, you might start noticing a trend in this flip-flopverse. It’s starting somewhere in this chapter. Can you guess what it is? (Hint: It’s not the variant ages of certain people.) (This thing is a mess and short but contains hints? :D?)
> 
> We’ll be back to your regularly scheduled Luna and/or Noctis next time!

After Princess Lunafreya’s stipulation, her mother ordered Cor Leonis to fetch Prompto Argentum.  Though, not before passing over some interesting files on the boy that he had no awareness of existing.  He almost took offense at Sylva’s lack of transparency, but when he bothered to read the details of the files, he realized why it seemed only Sylva and Clarus, and a select few others, who were then retired, knew.

The boy was a Niff, but not just some boy of some family that immigrated.  No, he would’ve seen that when Sylva ordered background checks after word made it to her that Luna made a friend in school.  The parents were Lucian, born and raised in Insomnia, with the boy listed as an orphan found by Kingsglaive headed home one day.  His appearance was generally atypical of Insomnians, but so was Cor’s, and he was Insomnian for at least five generations.

However, the files state those very same glaives were deployed on a mission to Niflheim.  Their top priority was recon, with a second priority set that, if they discovered a way to hinder any sort of weapons progress, to do so.

The boy was an infant, said to be a clone of a military scientist named Verstael Besithia.  A picture contained within of that man from that period of time made it clear the man could’ve called Prompto his son as a cover.  But he didn’t intend to do that, as evidently the cloned infants were sent for slaughter after a point, after infecting their bodies with the Starscourge, to breathe life into the Magitek soldiers appearing out in the theaters of war in which they fought in the present day.

That was disgusting.

It was written that the boy had a tattooed barcode on his wrist, meant to identify him as a mere number.  In Sylva’s report, she discussed ordering a surgery for removal to be ceased as it was too risky to do to an infant.  It would hurt the child more than anything.  No one would know what the barcode meant.  If the boy decided to remove it when he was an adult, and no longer had room to grow, he could do so.  Cor couldn’t say he disagreed.

The baby was passed to the care of a husband and wife—the Argentums—to name and raise as their adopted son.  They were upstanding citizens, vouched for by Titus Drautos.  They were middle class, and live under their means most usually, because they were business people.  Executive Vice Presidents in two different companies, two different industries.  They signed an agreement that they would start staggering their trips, so at least one parent was at home with the boy once he started school, and before then, he would be taken with them on their trips.  It should have been an exciting life for a little boy.

There were three visits from Crownsguard over as many years, as welfare checks that always ended with glowing reviews.  Prompto was remarkably healthy.  Evidently, in order to keep the cloned infants from passing before birth—birth from the bodies of mothers forced to carry them—the glaives had found details of the fact that DNA tampering had to be involved, to harden positive traits such as health, bone density, brain capacity, as without it, the clones broke down in utero.  Both the infant and the surrogate mother perished.  In each of those three visits, the boy—named Prompto Argentum—was listed as perfectly healthy, with no reports of so much as allergies to contend with.  One doctor that attended the visits with the Crownsguards involved noted that he was surprised so much was put into perfecting the body, when it wasn’t what was needed ultimately, anyway.  He did note that the boy’s eyes were declining marginally due to his reading toddler books by nightlight; that he would likely need glasses by kindergarten, but the doctor promised to ensure it happened when it was time.

However, that was where the documentation stopped, before an addition added the morning Cor was handed the file.  An addition from Sylva herself; a note addressed to Cor.

‘ _I do not know why visitations didn’t continue after the third year.  This is my failure, as I should have stayed on this to ensure it.  I am entrusting you to do what I failed to ensure:  Get the boy a physical, learn about his life.  He might not remember the visitations, so do not mention them.  Lunafreya has dropped some disturbing tidbits of information this morning… things that I would like to confirm._

 _Thank you, Cor._ ’

“Would’ve been nice to have you mention what those were, Syl,” Cor muttered to himself.

The files were closed and returned to the queen’s attendant standing in wait outside his door, with the address and important contact information from them in his phone.  “Thank you, marshal,” the young woman said, bowing as she hugged the files to her chest.

“Thank you,” he emphasized calmly in return.

“Do you have the current address?” she asked.

“Yeah, and the last listed in the files.  I’ll take care of it.”  He gestured at two Crownsguard who were idling nearby, interrupting their break as they snapped to attention.  “Escort her back to the queen.  No one touches her or these files.”

“Sir,” they acknowledged, in tow with a salute.

Cor watched them go for a time, before heading in the opposite direction, to get to the elevators.  He wanted to get on it right away.

And he wasn’t even remotely surprised to find Luna waiting for him down in the executive parking garage of the Citadel.  She was seated up on the edge of a concrete planter, playing with her phone, when he emerged, and hopped up to walk with him when she saw him.

“I’m guessing you want to speak about Prompto,” he said blandly.

“Aw, Cor, you know me so well~”  The teasing tone she used was brief, before she turned serious again, though she kept a slight bounce to her step.  “Be nice to him.  He’s a good guy, and a softy.  Just having you speak directly to him is going to make him flustered and want to do everything he can to not look stupid.  He acts dumb, but he was a pretty good student in school.  He just doesn’t want to look dumb by pretending to know something, and end up being wrong.”

“So, don’t make him any more of a kicked puppy than he’ll already make himself,” Cor summarized.  “Got it.”  When he reached his car, he unlocked it with his control and looked to Luna.  “You can come along, if you want.”

“He’ll accuse me of duping him into being stupid if he sees me first,” she said with a small smirk.  “Dramatically and hilariously, but he will.  I’ll just keep the phone nearby, in case he slams the door in your face.”

“Will he be at home this time of day?”

“Yeah,” Luna said, although she had to confirm the time on her phone, first.  “He’ll be going on a run in about an hour, but if traffic’s good, you’ll catch him just before.”

“Got it.  Be good while I’m gone, your Highness,” Cor bid as his farewell.

“I’m always good, Cor,” she balked.

“Uh huh.”  Really, Luna wasn’t that bad, but she was still a handful at times.

*****

For Prompto Argentum, Luna did know him way too well, and he was always ready to admit that.  After knowing one another for nearly fourteen years, though, of course she would.

After making sure his chores were done for the day, he changed into his track suit and headed outside, ready to do some stretching before his run.  Every day, he did at least three miles in the morning, and five in the afternoon.  Luna always told him to be careful so he wouldn’t burn out, but he’d been at it for so long, it barely phased him.  He wasn’t the most physically fit person in the world, but he tried to keep his regimen and his diet stable so he would never go back to what he looked like as a kid.  There were times he realized that Luna worried about how he treated himself, but he wasn’t abusing diets or anything!  A little paranoia was good, right?

Unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t even make it to stretching.

As he emerged from behind the fence and latticework that lined the front walk, he came face to face with a man, nearly running into him.  “Whoa!” he yelped, stumbling back.  “Sorry!”  It took him a second, but he quickly noticed the Crownsguard attire the man was wearing, and his eyes managed to go even wider as he promptly gave a klutzy bow.  “I’m really sorry!”

“Not a big deal,” the man replied.  He looked over the younger man carefully, and added, “Cor Leonis.”

Oh.  _Oh_.  Oh no.  “M-Marshal of the Crownsguard?” Prompto stammered, stumbling back farther.  “T-To what do I owe the honor?”  He let out a nervous laugh, looking around for Luna to spring out at any moment to yell she’d hired someone to scare the crap out of him.  It wouldn’t have been the first time!

“You’ve been called to the Citadel to begin training.  Princess Lunafreya’s going to have to go on a trip soon, to Accordo, and she wants you to go with.  Per Her Majesty, you’re to begin training immediately.”

“Wh-Whoa.  Um.”  Prompto rubbed at the back of his neck.  He was at a loss for words for a long period, and funnily enough, it seemed like Cor had been anticipating it, as he just stood there, watching with infinite patience through stoicism.  “I’m n-not really a fighter, you know?”

“My goal isn’t to turn you into a fighter.  I just need you to be able to defend yourself,” he assured.  “Her Shield and steward are going as well.  However, royal trips such as this require Crownsguard, and Crownsguard only, to travel with her Highness.  So you’re getting a crash course.”

“Um…”

“Do you know any sort of weapon?”

Prompto thought about that for a minute.  “Well… I’m a mean shot in shooting games?  I mean, I always beat Luna…”

“Guns.  We can do guns.”  The marshal turned and started for the black sports car Prompto only just noticed was parked at the end of the driveway.  “Let’s go.”

“The Crownsguard do guns?” Prompto asked, surprised as hell while obeying.

“They’re trained in it, as are the Kingsglaive.”  The marshal opened the passenger door for Prompto.  “We use melee and magic primarily, but know thy enemy.”

“Whoa, that’s a good point.”  Prompto got into the car.  “So basically, you’re gonna teach me to stay back and shoot?”

“That’s precisely it.”

Prompto offered a thumb up to Cor—right until the door closed, and Prompto spent the four seconds it would take for Cor to get into the driver’s seat to have an absolute freakout.  He was, of course, going to do it, because it was what Luna wanted.

That didn’t mean he was going to panic any less, though.

Cor ‘The freaking Immortal’ Leonis was going to teach him things.

What was life anymore?

*****

It was more than a little overwhelming when Prompto found himself standing in the middle of a Kingsglaive training hall.  He didn’t realize that Cor had initially wanted to take him to the Citadel, to do his initial testing within a Crownsguard training hall, but the boy was just too anxious, and he didn’t want to give him heart failure.

Prompto noted how the entire hall was so massive, and yet congested.  There were so many things to train with scattered all around.  “How do glaives train in here?” he asked, his eyes trailing upwards.  He was a little surprised to find rings—like the sort gymnasts used—drilled high into the wall, and swinging bars of the same variety hanging from the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” Cor asked from within some sort of armory, from what little Prompto could see.  The man told him to stay outside, so all he could see were weapons on the passage beyond the door, and the wall that went right, around the corner.

“There’s so much stuff _everywhere_ in here.  How can they even move?”

“Glaives work out beyond the Wall, where things are unpredictable, and sometimes very tight.  Especially in the theaters of war.  What you see here changes multiple times a day, so it’s different every time they enter for practice.”

“Oh, that makes sen—”

“Catch.”

Prompto whirled to Cor, just in time to see a rifle being tossed at him.  He scrambled to grab it, doing so clumsily, but doing his best to not touch the trigger.  “W-Whoa, sorry!” he stammered, even though he didn’t drop it or fire it accidentally.

“You’re aware of the trigger already.  That’s good.”  The compliment elicited a bashful laugh from Prompto.  Cor left it alone, though, and came up beside him.  “This rifle is one that was looted off Magitek infantry.  Riflemen aren’t common, as the Magitek tinmen are designed to fight more like we do, to make it harder for us.  That’s good for you, though.  Means their range is limited, where yours won’t be.”  He held up his hand to display a small container, with shape-changing foam earplugs within.  “I want you to get these in your ears, and then I want you to pull on the bolt to lock a single round in place, call your target, and hit it after I approve.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”  Prompto was terrified, but he slowly pulled the gun over his shoulder, via its strap, so he could do as he was told.  “Their guns are really bolt-action?”

“It’s exceedingly stupid, I know.  They have snipers and their human soldiers work with automatic weapons, but typically, outside of mechs, you’ll go against standard MT troopers, and they will use bolt action when not using melee weapons, or other unconventional gear.”

“Jeez…”  Prompto turned, to start looking around the room.  He could see some evidence that what they were doing then had been done before, but… he’d never fired a real gun before.

“I’m not looking for perfection,” Cor explained while Prompto mashed his earplugs together to push in his ears.  “I just want to see what level you’re at.”

“Yes, sir.”  Prompto hadn’t a clue that Cor was quite fond of the respect the nervous young man was showing.  It was a rare trait in Insomnia those days.  “I guess I’ll shoot at that silhouette over there.”  He gestured through to about halfway-worth of space, to a silhouette target, already containing a few bullet holes.  The rifle was brought around and up, against his shoulder, but he stopped a second.  “Don’t you need earplugs, sir?”

“Son, I’ve already got hearing damage from a lot louder weapons than this one,” Cor said.  “One gunshot isn’t going to make a difference.  I’ll worry about it when we start formal training.”

Prompto gaped at the marshal a moment, but he didn’t push it.  He supposed that made sense.  The lessons and documentaries on TV about The Immortal said he’d been through some hellacious fights in the past…

Back to the task at hand, Prompto lined up his target with the sight.  He wondered what kind of kick it had.  He wondered if it’d hurt when it went back, or if it’d be like nothing happened.  Prompto had never fired a real gun, but he knew guns.  He knew them from school, and games, and from when he briefly considered being a police officer.  That was something Luna and her two friends, Ignis and Gladiolus, were quick to talk him down from.  Being the princess’s friend and a cop would make him a high target.  He was pretty safe as it was, since Luna stayed out of sight, but if it ever became known, it’d be bad news.

Once he had the shot lined up, he fired the weapon.  The butt of the rifle pushed back hard, and he did everything to keep a firm grip.  Not only to keep the rifle from jumping, but to keep it from jamming.  He knew a loose grip was bad, especially with pistols, when it came to preventing the weapon from getting stuck on the next round.

The result had Cor tilting his head, as his eyes went from Prompto, to the target, and then back to Prompto.  “Not bad.”

The blond looked at the new hole, right where it would have taken out the upper bridge of a person’s nose.  “I was aiming for about where the eye was,” he lamented.

“Well, if that’s what happens when you miss your mark, getting you trained on the weapons themselves won’t take long.  It’ll just be about focusing on the rest of the training, then.”

Cor plucked the rifle from Prompto’s grasp, and headed back into the infirmary as he unloaded its clip and chambered round.  “Sir?” Prompto questioned, watching him.  “What’s the rest of training?”

“You’re going to need to learn how to work around Princess Lunafreya and her other retainers,” the marshal called back from within the armory.  “The three of them have a near-perfect routine of how to handle themselves and one another in battle.  They know how to compensate for glaives and guards, and myself, as well as the Crown Prince and the Queen.  But they’ve never had a gunner before.  And you’ve had no combat training, let alone team combat training.  We need to get the four of you working as a unit.”

“But how am I supposed to do that, and stay back?” Prompto asked, frowning through confusion.

“Don’t worry.  All three know what we’re ordering of you, and they agree.  They want all members of their team safe.  They have no objections.  You’re a citizen of Lucis first, the princess’s friend second, and her retainer third.  We don’t expect you to fight if you can’t.  We want you to survive.”

“Some retainer then, huh.”

“’Retainer’ isn’t another name for ‘bodyguard’, Prompto.  It just means someone in service to a member of nobility or royalty.  You’re there because she wants you there.  You’re a confidant.  That’s just as important.”

“Oh.”

Prompto didn’t feel like that was very convincing.  But who was he to argue?  Luna was his friend, and he rarely thought of her as a princess, so he didn’t ask a lot of questions.  Luna was Luna, so why would he want to, right?

But man, was he regretting not asking maybe a _few_ more questions throughout the years…


End file.
